


When I Called You

by cubedcoffeecake



Series: The Call [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Songfic, The Call by Regina Spektor, Time Skips, tho not exactly “modern”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 19:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17310170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cubedcoffeecake/pseuds/cubedcoffeecake
Summary: You said you’d come.(Sometimes you did.)





	When I Called You

**Author's Note:**

> Based on “A song you never get tired of” from some Tumblr list.
> 
> It’s 5:50am. I haven’t slept at all—haven’t even left the bed—this story has already deleted itself just as I hit publish once, and my depression and anxiety are about to successfully strangle me.
> 
> The Call is the song at the end of one of the Narnia movies, and it always gives me so many feels. I hope I’ve managed to convey SOMETHING in this mess.

The summer air was hot and humid. Tidge felt it stick to his skin like berry juice on his fingers. His thin cotton shirt was plastered to his body in some places, but floating loose in the breeze in others. Pointlessly wishing the air he was filling his lungs with could be cool and fresh, he leaned further out the window, forearms still braved on the sill but shoulder and torso hanging out. He tipped his head back and tried to ignore the discomfort of his too-long hair hanging down to brush his back.

Footsteps sounded, and a motor came to life. Tidge looked back down; first at his own asphalt driveway, and then up past the rickety fence and thick shrub trees to Kylo’s driveway. He could just catch the familiar head of long curls bobbing in and out of view. 

Two days ago, they’d been sitting in one of the old oak trees down the road. High up, nestled in one of the thick forks, their sides were crushed together as they sucked on popsicles and Kylo broke the news.

“I’ve finally done it.”

“Mmm?” 

“Mom and Pops are sending me off.” 

Hux glanced over, something uncomfortable growing in his stomach when he caught sight of his friend(lover _everything_ )’s expression. 

“You’re serious. 

Kylo just nodded.

Their feet had been swinging back and forth unthinkingly, bumping into each other and the tree’s branches irregularly. Now they hung achingly still, neither boy daring to move. If they moved, time would move, and… Maybe Kylo knew what he was going to do with himself in the next moment, but Tidge really didn’t, and he really, _really_ didn’t want to have to figure it out.

He’d never run from anything in his life. Tidge kicked his foot against Kylo’s on purpose, watching the drops of popsicle fall down, down, down to the ground as Kylo’s body swayed to rebalance himself.

“To my Uncle’s, off on his ranch or whatever.”

“How long?”

The seconds dragged on to minutes as Kylo resolutely didn’t answer. Whenever Tidge glanced over, his attention was directed solely to his popsicle; carefully licking and sucking to pull every last bit of ice off the stick. Too soon for Kylo—and too long for Tidge—it was all gone, and he had nothing to busy himself with but the truth. 

He’d stood up silently and climbed down, dropping the last few feet to the ground with a muffled thud.

“Pops’ taking me Saturday morning.”

Tidge nodded somberly. Kylo looked up at him for several moments before letting his head drop. It hanged; he shoved his hands in his pockets; his feet stomped all the way down the drive. Tidge knew him well enough to know the anger wasn’t between them. The universe deserved a good bit of hate, on these sticky summer days that dragged on for too long without lasting long enough.

He’d first felt it in the moment he watched Kylo disappear beyond a hill. It was just a twitch, then; something whispering to his stomach that it was okay, and it could relax a little.

Tidge had begun to hope as he’d watched Kylo watch him while he packed Kylo’s suitcase. He wanted to hate that little seed growing up too fast, but he couldn’t bring himself to. It was the only pleasant thing stemming from this change. Just one, tiny hope.

The hope became a thought while Tidge was distracted. He came down from the high of orgasm to skin far too warm and sticky—but also to a thought. _Kylo won’t give this up._

He’d delayed using words until Kylo had all his clothes back on and was opening the window to climb down.

“If I need you—“

Kylo stopped and turned. His expression was cast in shadow, and Tidge had to finish without any knowledge of how it would be received.

“—will you come back?”

Too long, and never enough.

Leaning out to catch a breeze that wasn’t there and a sight he didn’t truly want to see, Tidge said it to himself. Reminded. Wished that he could begin to believe it if he said it aloud himself.

“He’ll come back if I call him.”

A whisper. 

The slam of car doors reverberated through the still morning. No birds calling, no cicadas chirping. Just Mr. Solo and Kylo climbing into the car and closing the doors behind them.

He could see it once it had pulled out of the drive and onto the road. Tidge could watch as they drove off, growing smaller and smaller and _leaving him_

“He’ll come back!” He yelled, now. The morning didn’t react. The oppressive stillness didn’t lift. 

“He’ll _come back_ if I call him!” Nothing.

“He _WILL_!”

Chest heaving from the effort of bellowing the promise, Tidge realized that not all the stickiness was from the air now. Tears tracked down his cheeks, eyes swelling and nose stuffing up. What a mess. He should go into the bathroom and grab a wet wash rag. Washing his face would make him feel more human, for certain; and if he was lucky, he may even feel a bit less like he’d torn an organ from his body.

An hour passed before he could bring himself to take his eyes off the end of the road they’d vanished down.

  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

Phasma turned up whatever the shit was she had blaring over the old truck’s stereo. The whole vehicle shook from the bass, and Hux huffed sharply. He hated his.

Two days, and he’d be gone. Gone, for god knows how long, but no less than a full tour in wherever America decided to fight next. Hux cursed his father. Cursed himself. Cursed the goddamn universe. 

His legs were swinging wildly, thumping against the back wheel like a death toll. No matter how fiercely he glared at his perfectly polished boots’ toes, he couldn’t stop seeing Kylo’s gaze boring into his soul as he tried to walk away of his own volition; to break his heart because he’d chosen to, not because he had no other choice.

Kylo knew him too well. Hux had woken up in the middle of the night as Kylo wrapped him up tightly in his arms and kicked the sheets down to their feet. All they’d need that night was each other. Really, it was all they ever needed. (It was all they couldn’t ever have.)

One last hoorah. Mitaka and Thannison lazily made out against a tree a few feet away while Phasma bothered Kylo about something or other. They all had Solo cups of moonshine at hand, and a determination born from survival instinct to ignore the rest of the world until long after the sun had finished setting.

Hux peered up as he took a swig of drink and let Kylo grab his hand while he settled down next to him. He kept looking up, not daring to peer into Kylo’s unfathomable eyes. He wasn’t sure if he could bear that tonight.

No, he looked up and up until he was scowling at the heavens. There were a few dozen stars already making themselves known, and Hux let himself focus on them until the rest of the world faded away.

Come what may, in Afghanistan, Vietnam, or South Africa. Anytime he wanted, Hux could look up and up and be right back here where he belonged. He’d feel the way Kylo’s thick, sticky fingers found their home between his thin ones, and the way their thighs pressed together, and feel the beat of Phasma’s music in his bones. He could go home, for an instant. 

“We’ll be right here when you come back,” Kylo murmured.

He could go home, for an instant, and know that it was only a matter of time before he’d be back for good.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


No one was waiting. 

Hux tried not to let himself care. Maybe they hadn’t heard he was coming back today. It had been eleven years; they probably had other priorities.

Still in uniform, he picked his way down the lane. Nothing looked different. The trees weren’t any discernible amount bigger; any new cracks to the asphalt blended in with the old ones. No houses were repainted, or yards rearranged. It felt like he’d left that very morning.

***

Kylo still lived next door. Or so Hux heard; he’d yet to see him in the week he’d been back. Mitaka and Thannison moved on to a larger city. That news had left his heart twinging a bit, but he understood, and resolved to write them a letter at some point in hopes of reviving their acquaintance. Phasma had dropped by within an hour of his walking through the door, but not returned again.

There was an old rocking chair on the front porch.

None of them had ever made a habit of staying on the porch. Brendol Hux spent some time there, which made it a very undesirable location back in the day. That was “back in the day,” now, so Hux settles into the chair with an iced tea and a vision.

Two boys raced around that corner over there, elbows raw and shirts stained. Teens swung careless legs over those branches. Greedy fingers pulled berries from yonder vines.

Hux let the memories grow and grow in his mind until he could watch them play out in front of him. His tea ran low, but he refused to move; to let time move. To return to a time when he was the only one who clung to these memories any more.


End file.
